


Aubergine Dreams

by hailsatxn, IdjitSherlockian



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, Ryden, Soulmate au basically, You see colors when you fall in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8871421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailsatxn/pseuds/hailsatxn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdjitSherlockian/pseuds/IdjitSherlockian
Summary: Color. How exactly do you describe a color to someone who has never seen it before? Red, like the feeling of the summer sun on your skin...yet they have never seen the yellow light glowing from the morning sky. Blue, like the deepest of chilly waves in the ocean, yet they have never seen the cool crisp color of the ocean, lakes, or rivers.How do you describe color in this world of black and white?





	1. Prologue

Color. How exactly do you describe a color to someone who has never seen it before? Red, like the feeling of the summer sun on your skin...yet they have never seen the yellow light glowing from the morning sky. Blue, like the deepest of chilly waves in the ocean, yet they have never seen the cool crisp color of the ocean, lakes, or rivers.

How do you describe color in this world of black and white?

\--

“My mom says red is like, a really bright color, but it can also be dark, what do you think she means?” Pete questioned, pulling up grass from beside his leg.

“I dunno, maybe it’s like grey, how there’s lots of different versions of it.” Frank’s tiny voice responded as he looked around the playground, all the other third graders screaming in joy. 

“Yeah, maybe. My dad said his favorite color is blue, and that that’s the color of the sky.” Gerard mumbled, more focused on his comic than the conversation. “I wish I knew what Wolverine’s costume looked like.” 

“How can the sky be blue you dummy, the shades of grey change when the sun moves.” Brendon snorted, looking up at the pale grey sky. “It turns all different kinds of grey when it’s almost night time, then it’s black.” 

“Don’t call him a dummy, my mom says the sky is blue too!” Patrick scolded, playing with his Donatello Ninja Turtle action figure. 

Brendon rolled his eyes, before brushing the grass Pete had accidentally flung onto his, in his words “stupid”, khaki pants his mom made him wear to school everyday. Why couldn't his parents be like Gerard’s or Pete’s? They let them wear cool cargo shorts and Power Ranger shirts! And Partick’s mom got him those cool light up sneakers. It wasn’t fair to Brendon, he had to wear dress pants and a button up everyday just because his mom said God wanted him to. It was just school, not church, and he really wanted to wear “normal” clothes. 

“I don’t understand why we can’t see color yet.” 

“Because, we’re too little, that’s why.” Gerard responded, still immersed into his comic.

“No, it’s because my dad said we aren’t in love.” Pete argued, playing with his curly hair. 

“Well then I want to be in love so I can tell what color Wolverine’s suit is!” Gerard exclaimed back frustrated. 

Ryan had sat quietly the whole time, his small body clothed in old jeans and a worn t-shirt, and his slightly wavy hair getting a bit too long. “My mom and dad don’t see color.” He said flatly, before standing up. 

The small group of third graders looked at each other with wide eyes, before Brendon got up, running after the other eight year old. He grabbed Ryan’s shoulder before he reached the door to the bathroom.

“What do you mean your parents don’t see color?” Brendon questioned, looking up at Ryan’s face. The taller boy shrugged his shoulders. 

“My mom said that she doesn’t see colors, and my dad said the same thing.” He stated simply.

“Maybe they’re just broken or something.” Brendon stated innocently, not fully understanding.

“No, it’s because they don’t love each other.” 

“Of course they do! They had you, and my mommy says you have to love someone to have a baby with them because that’s how it works.” Brendon stood his ground, but the older boy scoffed. 

“Your mom is wrong, and the whole color thing is stupid. I’m never gonna see the colors, so why should it matter.”

\--

“I heard Frank started seeing colors this week.” Pete whispered to his desk group as the teacher prowled not far from the friends, trying his best to not be heard over the monotonous drone of the video they were supposed to be taking notes of.

“Yeah, me too, but I know he was lying.” Gerard replied then, scribbling on a discarded paper he had been using for notes until he had gotten bored, a paper laying underneath it with the beginning of note taking to switch over on top of his drawing if the teacher approached.

“How would you know if Frank was lying?” Pete counted, a little louder than intended since the teacher turned and glared towards their group, and they all hurried to busy themselves pretending they were working.

“Because one, he told me he wanted to know how gullible you all were, and two, he said the grass was fucking red.” Gerard put his pencil down from his drawing, which seemed to be a monkey of some sorts. Brendon wasn't really sure.

“Okay, language, and how would you know if the grass wasn't red?” Patrick spoke up quietly, the only one apart from Ryan who was legitimately working, since he knew Pete would probably need his help on the lesson later.

“Well obviously I wouldn't, but have you ever heard anyone else say the grass was red? I hear green more often.” 

Pete fired back again, determined to win his little debate with Gerard. “Yeah, well, other people could be lying too.”

This started the two to start bickering back and forth, the worry of the teacher overhearing forgotten as they did. It wasn’t until the sudden sound of Ryan forcing his pencil down onto the desk that they quieted, turning towards Ryan's heated glare.

“Why does it fucking matter? Who cares what the fucking grass looks like?” He basically yelled the answer, and the teacher turned towards him like a predator on their prey.

“MR.ROSS! Never have I ever heard such language out of a sixth grader! To the office, now!” Their teacher yelled, and Ryan forcefully ripped his bookbag off the back of his chair, before stuffing his notes into it and stalking out of the room.

\--

“Ryan? Are you okay?” Brendon's concerned voice followed behind the brunette as he slammed his locker shut and began to walk at a brisk pace, refusing to turn and look at his friend.

“I'm fine, Brendon.” Came the reply that Brendon had expected, the reply he always got. The reply he was sick of, because he knew it was a lie. It was always a lie.

“Ryan, please, wait up.” Brendon sighed, unable to do much more than that. These days his friend was always angry. He almost never had any happy moments in school, especially since the colors started to play a major role in the material in this part of their life.

Despite the fact he obviously didn't want to, Ryan did slow down enough to let Brendon catch up to him, lagging only slightly behind. “Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?”

“I'm sure, Brendon.” Was all he got, and Brendon let his hands fall to the ground balled into tight fists. He kept his eyes down, focusing them on the pants he hated so much. Normally, he would complain about the way his mother treated him, but...considering Ryan's situation he felt it would be unfair.

“Okay, well I'm here if you need me, Ryan.” Brendon said, only to be shrugged off. Whatever had happened in that class was worse than normal. Kid’s were probably bullying him again for being the “skinny weird kid.” 

Freshman year was only starting, and Ryan already got beat up twice a week. 

The pair walked in silence, the roar of the high school students around them falling on deaf ears. They walked into the courtyard, being spotted by Frank first.

“Hey guys! Guess what!” He jumped up and down excitedly as Gerard smirked from behind his comic.

“I dunno, what Frank.” Brendon laughed, sitting down next to Gerard on the stone ledge. 

“Gee and I are dating!” Frank exclaimed, a wide smile enveloping his face.

“Awesome!” Brendon smiled, pulling out his lunch as Ryan sat down next to him silently. 

“Thanks.” Gerard replied, before flipping to the next page. 

“So can you guys like...you know?” Brendon asked. He unwrapped his turkey sandwich, offering half to Ryan, who accepted wordlessly. 

“See color? Kind of. I can see what my mom calls ‘pastels’. Apparently I’m only seeing washed out versions of all the colors.” Frank explained as he popped the tab on a soda. 

“Yeah, and I’m about the same.” Gerard stole a sip of Frank’s soda as he responded. Brendon and Ryan continued to eat their halves of their sandwiches wordlessly for a bit, both pondering the new information. 

“I think I’m like that.” Brendon stated finally. “It’s only little things right now, and they’re ‘pastels’ too. Like, I can’t tell you the color of the bus or anything, but I can tell you what color a flower is or whatever.” 

“Really? That’s so cool! But how are you seeing it if you’re not in love?" Gerard asked, rolling a pale green apple between his hands. 

“Maybe I am in love with someone.” Brendon smirked, finishing off his sandwich half. Frank looked at Gerard, before breaking out into a massive grin and falling into a fit of giggles.

“Yeah! Okay! I bet you’re only saying that so you can act like you see color like us.” Frank teased.

Brendon was going to counter back, but his jaw snapped back tightly shut when Ryan got up suddenly. He was off walking in a flash, both Gerard and Frank giving a worried look to Brendon.

Brendon swallowed hard through the initial shock of Ryan's anger, and he met Frank and then Gerard's gaze. “I'm gonna...go after him.”

Brendon didn't wait for their responses, following in the direction Ryan had headed. He basically ran to catch up with him, out of breath when he finally did. “What,” He paused to take a gulp of air, “the FUCK was that!” He exclaimed, using the air he had just gotten in one exasperated yell.

Ryan didn't even look at him, only fueling the anger that the shock had turned into. “What do you think, Brendon?” He said coldly, his eyes fixated straight ahead of him with a stone faced expression.

“Why would I be asking if I knew, Ryan? Is this about the whole color thing?” He demanded, forcing himself in front of the taller boy, grabbing his arm when he tried to simply walk around him.

“No, Brendon, this is about the magical fairies that dance in the moonlight.” Ryan said sarcastically, attempting to pull his arm from Brendon's grip with a roll of his eyes. Brendon wasn't budging, though.

“Are you kidding me, Ryan? I have been nothing but damn supportive of you dealing with this color shit for…” Brendon paused, mentally counting the number of years in his head, “Six years now, and I so much as mention it and you snap? Sorry to break it to ya, buddy, but it's kinda part of society!”

“Mention it? Brendon, you said you could see it! That's totally different!” Ryan fumed, tearing his arm away from Brendon. “Not to mention saying you love someone!”

“Ryan, listen to me,” Brendon said, his voice quieter now, aware that the louder they got the more people were stopping to watch, “You can't do this to yourself. You've been acting like a major bitch to all of your friends, to me, because of this shit. You can't be doing this.”

“How do you expect me to NOT react like this, Brendon? All these kids are so stupid, talking about how they can see these stupid colors with their stupid romanticizing of a fake idea. Don't they get it? That it's going to all fade one day? That all of its fake? The colors always go away." Brendon could basically feel the anger radiating from Ryan, his whole body seeming to shake with with every emphasized word. Brendon backed up a bit, his eyes narrowing.

“Ryan, acting like this is not going to help you. You're only pushing your friends further away.” It was more of a warning than a point in an argument, each second spent with his eyes locked with Ryan's seeming to make matters worse.

“Then maybe I'm better off without.”

It hurt a lot more than Brendon would have liked to admit, hearing those words come from Ryan's mouth. He had put so much effort into trying to help Ryan, trying to always be on his side, and that's how he's rewarded? A broken friendship because he just wasn't good enough?

“Yeah, well, if you're gonna act like this then you certainly are.” Brendon wished those words hadn't left his mouth, but they did, and sadly the world has no undo button.

His eyes strayed to the people around him and Ryan, his heart seeming to try and free itself from the cage that was his chest. He sent one last, fuming look to Ryan before turning around, basically running to get away from him before he broke down.

Pushing past a group of kids crowded around the band room, Brendon walked in without even worrying about the teacher being there. He had really hit it off with the band teacher, so he didn't really mind Brendon being in his class if he ever needed a second to calm down. He was glad the teacher wasn't there, though, because as the first of the tears slipped down his cheeks he found he couldn't stop them.

A sob escaped his lips as he slid down the wall, his body shaking as the heated, angry energy drained from him. He was left empty, staring at the pale gray of his hands. Ryan was his closest friend, the one who made him feel as if he wasn't just a pawn in a bigger game,even if he did always go off about the colors and love. Made him feel like he wasn't such a reject...and he had just lost it all.

His mom was always so hard on him, always making him wear these stupid “professional” clothes and lecturing him about “straying from God’s path”. As far as Brendon was concerned, if there was a God then what he was wouldn't fucking matter to him, and if it did he could, well, go to hell.

Since eighth grade he had been struggling with himself. It wasn't as if being gay or bi was a strange concept to him, a lot of people in his friend group were, and he had learned to disregard what his mom said about that a while ago. It was when he noticed that he himself was attracted to both that he got nervous.

Every moment with his mom became awkward, every little word passed between them putting Brendon on edge. He was constantly snapping at her, to which she would scold him with her normal ‘after all I've done for you, He wouldn't want this’ speech. She caught on pretty quick that something was different about the way he was acting, but he never told her and she could never put her finger on it.

It was because of Ryan Brendon hadn't broke and told her. He kept him grounded, reminded him to wait until he was safe, until he had a place to escape if he needed to get away from her.

Brendon wasn't sure how well he'd be at hiding with Ryan gone.

With the good always comes the bad, and in this moment, Brendon wished he could tell which outweighed the other.

The sound of the band door being pushed open jolted Brendon's attention upwards, and his pupils blew wide as he desperately tried to get rid of the evidence of his tears. He gave up when he saw who it was, more tears forcing their way out.

Ryan.

“What do you want?” Brendon asked, trying to force his voice to sound indifferent, but it wavered with the tears that slipped down his face.

Ryan moved to sit next to him, glancing at Brendon as if he was asking if it was okay.  
Despite the fact that his whole body seemed to stiffen as Ryan went to settle down beside him, Brendon found himself nodding.

“I'm sorry.” He said after a moment, messing with the darker gray of his sleeve.

“Me too.” Was all Brendon said, keeping his eyes fixated on his hands.

“You shouldn't be, Brendon, you didn't do anything wrong.” Ryan's voice had turned soft, and Brendon couldn't help but lift his eyes to the boy, their gazes colliding in a moment of sharing for both of them. “You're...right. I've been being an ass, I shouldn't take out my frustration on any of you, especially you Brendon. It's not fair to you, me, or anyone else.”

“Yeah, well, I shouldn't have brought up the colors around you. I know it upsets you.” Brendon replied quietly, wiping a tear from his cheek with his right hand.

Ryan was quiet for a few moments before speaking again. “Did you mean what you said out there? About seeing colors?” His voice, trying to mask the doubt and failing pretty badly at doing it, shook a little when he got to the word color, as if he had a sharp intake of breath as he said it.

“I don't know, Ryan. Maybe. I wouldn't really be able to tell.” Brendon said, his head turning to look straight ahead again, focusing on the various grays of the instruments he had already come to love.

They fell into a quiet air again, one that wasn't as heated or awkward as before as they sat side by side.

“Brendon?” Ryan's voice was the one to break the silence again.

“Yeah?” Brendon said again, his head resting against the wall as he turned to look at Ryan better. His face was nearly hidden by a scarf he had wrapped around his neck, his nose nuzzled into the soft fabric. He was staring straight ahead, much like Brendon had, his lower lip caught between his teeth. 

“I was wrong. About not needing friends, I mean.”

“Well don't worry, Ryan. You'll always have me.” Was all Brendon found he could say.

Brendon didn’t even notice that Ryan’s scarf was a pale shade of blue. 

\--

“Brendon?” 

Ryan's voice was extremely close to Brendon's ear, which even though they were dating still was shockingly delightful for him. He turned his head to get a better look at Ryan, and while it was slightly uncomfortable for him with how his neck twisted considering his body was pressed against Ryan's in an attempt to warm himself from the cold night air.

“We should run away.” Ryan said when he felt Brendon turn his head to look at him, still focused on the black and white of the sky above him. 

Night was special to Brendon and Ryan, one of the only things that they knew the true look of without color. Without having to think about love, or anything like it, they could share the night sky.

“What do you mean?” 

“After graduation, we should leave. Nothing is stopping us. You’re eighteen now, your parents couldn’t say no.” Ryan said, finally locking eyes with Brendon.

“Where would we even go?” Brendon questioned, pulling the blanket tighter them. The desert air was chilly despite it being the end of May. 

“Seattle.” Ryan mumbled, looking back up to the stars. Brendon shook his head, and pulled Ryan closer, burying his face in the crook of Ryan’s neck.

“We can’t...we don’t have any money, any place to stay. And my mom and dad finally accepted me, I can’t just leave.” Brendon sighed against Ryan’s neck. 

“We could find somewhere when we got there. I have some money saved up from working at Guitar Center, I know you have some from Tropical Smoothie. We could just pack the truck up and go.” Ryan mumbled, eyes locked on the stars.

“Ryan...my parents…” 

“Who cares! They’ll get over it!” Ryan huffed, rolling his eyes. “They don’t really care anyways…” he mumbled too quietly for Brendon to hear. 

“Not all parents are like yours Ryan…” Brendon hadn’t meant it harshly, but he should’ve known what would happen if he mentioned Ryan’s mom and dad.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Ryan groaned, pulling away from Brendon and sitting up. He leant against the side of the bed of the truck, his head in his hand.

“No babe, I didn’t mean…” Brendon started, but was cut off.

“Not everyone is lucky enough to have their parents stay together Brendon.” Ryan stated bitterly. “Not everyone has parent’s that love them.” 

“Ryan-” He was cut off again.

“You think I asked for my parents to get a divorce? No. You think I asked to have that drunk fuck as my father? Absolutely fucking not. I didn’t ask to have plates thrown at me when the asshole decides to actually get up before eight at night. I didn’t ask for screaming matches or to get slapped when I don’t get him a beer fast enough. I didn’t ask for any of this. So don’t, just don’t.” Ryan looked out across the desert, a hand over his mouth. 

“Ryan, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” Ryan still refused to look at him, causing Brendon to crawl the short distance over to him. “Baby, please…”

“Don’t.” 

“We can...we can go to Seattle…” Brendon said quietly after a few minutes of empty silence. He knew how much Ryan depended on him, whether Ryan liked to admit it or not. He would call Brendon at two in the morning, needing him there. And Brendon would be there, no questions asked. 

Brendon’s mother knew all about Ryan’s father. She knew how he treated Ryan, and she was the reason Ryan even stayed fed. Brendon would bring leftovers from dinner the night before so Ryan would get fed, he’d sneak Ryan out of his own house so he could sleep somewhere safe. Brendon would have to convince his mother to let him go to Seattle with Ryan. 

“Really…?” Ryan asked, looking at Brendon harshly.

“Yes.” Brendon replied, still knelt next to Ryan in the bed of the truck.

Ryan launched himself at Brendon, wrapping his arms around Brendon’s neck/ “Thank you, thank you much.” He sobbed into Brendon’s neck, and Brendon rubbed his back gently.

“Anything for you, Ryan.” He sighed, running his hand up underneath Ryan’s pale green t-shirt to rub his back more.


	2. Strongest you got

Work was, as always, inexplicably boring. Which was strange, considering the kind of people you could encounter working behind the counter at a bar. Sure, there was the off chance that he'd stumble into an interesting person or two, but at the same time, the people you can talk to as a person working the bar usually tend to be alone, and those who are alone are often there to get piss drunk.

Running the tips of his fingers across the smooth wood of the counter, Brendon's attention was drawn by a man sitting in front of him. Alone. “What can I get for you?”

“Strongest thing you've got.” Came the man's gruff response as he slumped forward, hands gripping each other and his head angled down. Brendon let out a whistle, moving to get him a drink (not as strong as the man had asked for).

“Damn, must be pretty bad.” Brendon said offhandedly, sliding the drink to him, pretending to busy himself cleaning despite the fact that a. he had just done so and b. the man was obviously up for talking as he immediately responded.

“Yeah, it is.” The man took a swig, making a face as he did. “The name’s Jon.”

“Brendon.” The bartender replied, watching as the man put the drink back down.

“Tell me, Brendon, do you know how it feels to love someone who can never love you back?" When Brendon didn't respond but made it apparent he was listening, Jon continued. “I mean, they do love me. Just not in the way I want.” He sighed, eyes focusing on his lap as he spoke quietly. “He told me that he had a girlfriend today.”

“Oh, and I'm assuming…” Brendon trailed off, frowning.

“I don't even think I have a chance.” He sighed, finishing off the drink and tapping it, and Brendon refilled it. “He probably doesn't even like guys. I probably shouldn't even be telling you I like guys.” 

Brendon gave his best reassuring smile. “Don't worry about the second part, it's the same for me.” Jon seemed to relax a little at that, picking up his drink once more.

“I just...wish I could have told him. Before, you know, he was dating someone. Then at least I'd have had time to get over him and know I didn't even stand a chance.” Jon raised and lowered the shot glass to his lips once more.

“You don't know for sure you don't stand a chance.” Brendon pointed out offhandedly, eyes meeting Jon's confused ones before continuing. “He could be bi, and just so happen to be dating a girl right now. Doesn't mean there's no chance of him ever liking you. Especially if you like him as much as it seems you do.” 

Jon blinked, brows furrowed as he stared at the now-empty glass and processed Brendon's words. Brendon left to deal with another customer while Jon thought this over, working quickly and returning just as fast to find Jon looking at him in a kind of awe. He raised a brow in question.

“You're a damn genius, Brendon.” He said after a few moments, and Brendon chuckled.

“Am I?”

“Yeah!” Brendon wanted to say it was the alcohol talking, but he doubted the man had even had enough to be tipsy just yet. “I mean, you must be like, some relationship god! I come in and talk to you about my problems and,” he opened his palms to emphasize his point at this moment, “BAM you open my eyes!” 

Brendon outright laughed at that. “Relationship god? While I like the sound of that, I find that highly doubtful.” Brendon didn't bother to mouth his reasoning behind its impossibility, but he think his words implied enough. Jon shrugged when Brendon finished speaking.

“Either way, you just saved me from a lot of troubled thoughts and lost self esteem.” Brendon smiled as Jon spoke.

“Well, I'm glad to be of service in more than my supplying of drinks.” Jon laughed at that along with him, seeming to be ready to go already.

“I'll definitely see you around, Brendon.” Jon said, and Brendon gave a slight nod.

“I sure hope so.”

\--

“Ryan?” Brendon walked into the apartment, calling his boyfriend's name and praying he wasn't trying to sleep and he hadn’t woken him. It was awful, in all honesty, how screwed their schedules were for each other. Brendon worked and got home late, Ryan worked during the day when Brendon was (normally) sleeping. The only good days were when Brendon didn't have to work that night and could escape to the bookstore with Ryan and spend his whole day with him. Other than that, the only time they had together was normally spent asleep, cuddling in bed.

“Bren?” Brendon sighed when he heard Ryan's voice, sounding drowsy, coming from the bedroom. Of course he'd have woken him up.

Removing his shoes and making his way quietly to the bedroom, Brendon stopped in the doorway of their shared room and looked at him, hair a mess and obviously having just woken up.

“Sorry I woke you, I was hoping you hadn't gone to bed yet.” 

Ryan shook his head, running his hand through his mess of hair and matching Brendon's gaze with his tired eyes. “You don't have to apologize, c'mere.” 

Brendon gladly obliged, settling himself against Ryan and letting himself sink into the embrace of his boyfriend, sighing. “I wish we didn't have such opposite schedules.” He murmured, eyes closing as he listened to the beat of Ryan's heart. He was already beginning to drift off once more, but answered Brendon nonetheless.

“Me too baby. You have work tomorrow?” Brendon shook his head, eyes still closed despite not feeling a bit tired.

“I was gonna try and go to the shop tomorrow.” Brendon said, eyes opening to look at Ryan and glad to see him smiling, even if his eyes were closed.

“I'd like that.” Ryan murmured, hands running softly up and down Brendon's back as he hummed a happy response. These were the best moments of his day, and he'd like to think it was the same for Ryan. “Can you stay? In bed I mean.” Ryan asked after a moment, and Brendon shifted to press a light kiss to Ryan's lips before responding.

“Of course.” His ran his fingers through the chocolate brown of Ryan's hair before resting against him again, letting himself relax.

“Goodnight, Ryan.”

\--

Brendon almost didn't get out of bed, which wasn't entirely his fault seeing as he told Ryan to wake him up. Ryan hadn't because ‘he looked so peaceful sleeping it would be a crime to wake him’. While that was cute, Brendon really wanted to go to fucking work with him so it wasn't the best cute thing Ryan could have done.

Groaning as he shifted in the passenger seat beside Ryan, Brendon pouted over at him, plump bottom lip sticking out in an almost childish way. “I didn't even get to grab my coffee.”

Ryan chuckled a bit as he gripped the steering wheel, the bleak gray of his skin contrasting greatly to the light shade of almost pink on Ryan's shirt. “I told you to stay home and rest.”

“But I wanna spend time with you!” Brendon whined, grinning at the playful way Ryan rolled his eyes. “You know you want me there too!”

“Hmm, to constantly distract me? I think not. I won't be able to get anything done.” Ryan spoke sounding almost thoughtful as he pulled out of the driveway and Brendon's hand touched lightly to his own chest in mock offense.

“Then why are you leaving with me in your car?”

“Because you won't get out, now shh, I gotta focus on driving.” Ryan put a finger to his lips before focusing on having both hands on the wheel while Brendon scrunched up his nose.

The car ride was not quite like Ryan had joked about due to Brendon hearing a song he liked and getting just a little, in his mind not Ryan's, too into it. Though Ryan had to admit, the show Brendon put on was quite amusing, and his voice rather pleasant too. 

They arrived to his work far too soon for either of their taste, Brendon kissing Ryan's cheek before opening the car door. 

It was a small, humble place. A place where people went to adopt new worlds, pay to have an escape for a little while while indulging in the sweet smell of vanilla and coffee that flooded the entire store due to the café. The owners, a wise old man with glasses that Brendon liked to say were probably the old person version of Harry Potter's and a sweet little woman whom the man was married, had combined their practiced together- The woman owned the bookstore, the man worked the café. There weren't many employees, Ryan was lucky, but the homely attitude always made Brendon feel light and at ease the second he walked through the door. He wished he could say the same for the bar.

Grabbing hold of Ryan's hand as he walked into the store with him, Brendon smiled as he looked around, greys and whites mixing with pale versions of colors Brendon always felt excited to see. It seemed every time he walked in there, there was always a new version of a color for him to see. Bits of color flecked the walls of books, and Brendon couldn't help but long to gently run his fingers along the spine of each one.

He didn't, though, because that would be weird, and completely not why he was here. He let Ryan tug him along as he made his way to the register, where a few of the other employees had gathered. His shift was to be cashier at the moment, which meant Brendon would be at the front of the store all day. He took his obligatory seat on the back counter, smiling at Mrs and Mr.Golsen as he did.

Mrs.Golsen smiled as she saw him. “Brendon! Always a pleasant surprise when you come visit us here with Ryan.”

Brendon laughed, quietly, trying to keep the homely air of the bookstore before opening- halfway through the day he would likely be yelling as always, customers laughing as he bickered playfully with Ryan. Some would say like an old married couple, but if Brendon had to guess based by Mr and Mrs.Golsen, that wasn't fitting. More like...teenage couples at three am on a Saturday. “Can't keep me away Mrs.Golsen, no matter how much Ryan wishes you could.”

Ryan made a face at him, immediately responded to by Brendon scrunching up his nose and sticking his tongue out. Most of the workers present chuckled at that, leaving a warm feeling in his chest. Some of Brendon’s favorite moments were spent here, in this building. The back of his heel tapped against the counter he was on, smiling at the sound of laughter.

“Well, we best finish getting everything set up. It was great to see you Brendon, and feel free to come by and grab a cup of coffee.” Mr.Golsen said pleasantly, so much like that of how Brendon imagined his own father might have been one day that it left a pang in his chest that he quickly shoved down. He wouldn't change what he did for all of the money in the world.

“Thank you, Mr.Golsen. I'll be sure to stop by in case this one,” He tilted his head in Ryan's direction,”gets grumpy.”

Ryan pushed his shoulder, causing him to tilt over slightly on the counter, but it was light, something gentle and familiar. Before he knew it the shop wash brushed up in the bustle of opening and Ryan was getting to work, leaving Brendon alone but not yet upset as he kicked off and wandered the store, finding the exact place he was looking for- the rest area.

Brendon collapsed into the beanbag chair that was technically supposed to be for children yet he figured he was close enough. He got lost in the time as he read, losing himself into the moment of rare relaxation and sinking into it like a safety blanket. He was just about to drift off when-

“Brendon? Is that you?”

Brendon's eyes lingered on closed as his brain processed the voice. There was no way in hell that was…

“Patrick!?”


End file.
